


Ready

by April_Valentine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, POV First Person, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/April_Valentine/pseuds/April_Valentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I get it man, you want blood" My next words are the easiest I've ever said in my life. "Take mine instead."</p><p>Daryl's POV as he comes across Joe and his men as they are about to assault Carl and Michonne and kill Rick, and the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready

Hate walkin’ in the dark. Cold seems colder, world seems emptier. Walkers more dangerous. But I’m glad I started hangin’ back. Joe’s group makes me hate myself, like I could get like them in a real short time.

Times like this, by myself out here in the dark, I almost wish it would end. Don’t have much to keep me going on. Not any more. Beth’s… gone. And like I told her, it’s likely everybody else we knew is dead.

_Rick._

I can’t even think about him because instead of havin’ hope, all I can feel is empty, guilty. Scared to think his name cause his name brings his face, his voice, his whole being into my mind. And it hurts so damn bad.

If Rick is dead, I don’t wanta live. So I’ll keep pretendin’ there’s a chance he’s not. That’s the only thing keeping me going.

What’s that up ahead? Looks like somebody has a fire.

Wait… that voice. It’s Joe – countin’, that sarcastic, sadistic tone in his voice that means somebody’s gonna die. Must have found the guy they’ve been lookin’ for.

Hurry up. Gotta see, even though I don’ want no part a this.

“Nine Mississippi.”

Rick? And Michonne and Carl. Damn. No –

“Eight Mississippi…”

I step out of the darkness. “Hold up.”

Rick’s eyes move to me. He can’t move, with Joe’s gun to his head. But I can see he wants to react. His eyes give it away. Wonderin’ if I’m with this gang. He gives the tiniest squint that means maybe… he’s glad to see me?

I wanta run and grab him, hold on tight, but there’s no time, no way, not now. Even if I had the guts, I can’t. This is the time to be cool and I know how to play this game. Been playin’ it all my life.

Joe’s annoyed I’ve interrupted him. Yeah, this is the guy they’ve been lookin’ for.

I can imagine how it went down. It was Rick or Lou in that bathroom. And thank God Rick won.

“These are good people.” As if ‘good’ matters to Joe.

Okay. He’s not gonna change his mind, so…

“I get it. You want blood.” Rick’s eyes are desperate. Fixed on me, yet aware of everything else that’s happening. He’s not scared – man, I love him for that. Worried, tense, but he’s not terrified like any lesser man with a gun to his head would be. He’s afraid for Carl, for Michonne, but not himself. He’s coiled like a snake, lookin’ for someplace to strike.

My next words are the easiest I’ve ever said in my life.

“Take mine instead.”

Take mine, and call it even. Rick’s worth a hundred of me. He gave me a life I never thought I’d have. Trusted me. Gave me somethin’ to contribute. First person ever said he needed me. I let him down when the governor came calling. Won’t now.

I know what these guys can do. They hit and keep on hittin’ till their prey is dead. That’s fine. Least I know Rick’s alive.

But I guess I’m not enough for Joe. Fucker’s gotta have his way.

“First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’ll have the boy, then the woman and then we’ll kill you.” Sing song comin’ from Joe’s mouth. Ain’t no code. S’all a game to him. And he never loses.

Like Rick, I see everything around us. Carl, trying to struggle against Dan. Michonne, her eyes on her sword, hate in her eyes. The men behind me, ready to take me down.

And Rick. He’s locked eyes with me.

Everything decent in this world looking back at me.

_I tried._

_I know._

“Teach him, boys,” Joe orders.

A rifle butt lands in my gut.

“Teach him good.”

They’re on me now, fists like hammers, eyes hungry.

_Come on then. You think I never been hit before? Never been hurt by somebody stronger and bigger? You shit heads don’ know what pain is._

Only thing I want is to keep my eyes on Rick. Wanta see him till the end. Not gonna be a decayed, filthy walker. Not gonna be a savage killer plowing his fists inta my face.

Gonna be Rick.

His fierce, worried, caring, amazing face will be my last sight. I might end up in hell, but his face will be my heaven.

Hard…to keep him in sight. I’m not so much fightin’ back as I am fightin’ to keep where I can see him. Fallin’ though. Sorry, Rick….

Gunshot!

I struggle upright. Shake ‘em off me, shake the hair outta my eyes. Is he shot? Please, no –

No, instead he’s getting’ up! He looks stunned but he’s movin’ even before he’s got his bearings back. The guys on me hesitate. Joe doesn’t seem fazed. I catch part of what he’s sayin’ to Rick.

“…so much worse now.”

He’s grabbed Rick around the upper body, pinned his arms. I have to get to him –

Hit again, thrown against the car, winded.

“Whatcha got now, sport?”

Can’t see, bein’ hit.

C’n hear sounds though – a cut off snarl, a gasp of pain and shock –

Another shot cuts the air – Michonne takin’ advantage of the distraction to get the man guarding her. Somebody spittin’ –

I’m suddenly free of the arms that were pinning me.

Joe is falling, blood pouring from his neck. Rick’s the one spittin’ – blood and flesh and he’s killed Joe and we gotta chance!

I turn, startin’ to hit ‘em back hard. _You’re nothin’. I don’t even feel where you punched me. There! One boot stomp to the head and you’re dead as a walker with a crushed skull._

Finished, I turn to help Rick. Dan’s still got hands on Carl.

“He’s mine.”

That voice, like gravel on a graveyard. Low, determined, undaunted.

_You got it, Rick. Give him what he deserves._

Michonne grabs Carl, we all watch as Rick sends his knife down into Dan, then through and up and up till he’s sliced open and left to bleed out, mouth hanging open on the last words of his beggin’ Rick didn’t hear.

Then they’re all dead and it’s quiet again. They’re all dead. And we’re alive.

Part of me wants to run to him, grab him up against me, body to body, not mindin’ the blood and the pain.

But he can’t look at me. Or Michonne. Or Carl.

None of us can talk either.

We set to work. Michonne and I drag the bodies out of the clearing, put our blades to their skulls not from compassion but for our own safety. Joe looks like walker bait and my admiration for Rick goes even higher. Nobody better not count that man out ever again. He can’t be stopped. Can’t be taken down. Won’t give up.

The sky’s lightening. Dawn’s comin’ cold and the fire’s out. For real cause we didn’t have the strength to keep it lit. And inside, the fire that had us fighting has burned out too.

Michonne’s taken Carl into the car where they can get away from Rick and me, maybe sleep a little.

Rick’s seated on the ground where he’s been for the last half hour, eyes unfocused, hands shaking. I can feel the adrenaline pourin’ off him. My own hands have been steadier than they are now too.

Can’t touch him; the moment’s passed and he looks like he wants his space. Might wanta talk and I ain’t good at that. Need to apologize or ‘least explain though. Ask for his forgiveness.

All my mistakes are rushin’ back on me. Not taking the governor when I had the chance. Not finding Rick when we all had to run. Losin’ Beth. Not getting here before Joe did.

Not tellin’ him how I feel before it was too late.

Leave it to me to fuck that up like everything else. Didn’t even know what I was feelin’ at first. Couldn’t explain it to myself when I did recognize it, much less tell him. Never felt like that before. Having m’feelings reciprocated was somethin’ I couldn’t even imagine. Less likely than seeing the chupacabra again. Wouldn’t know what to do if anyone ever looked at me the way I look at him in my dreams. Never happen in the light of day. Wouldn’t know what to do next. Usedta dream he might show me though.

Not tellin’ myself I got a second chance now. I’m not that much of a fool. Just gonna be glad he’s alive.

He’s alive and that’s all I need to know. Shaking as he comes down from the adrenaline, blood all over his face and beard and hands. Eyes all distant like he’s thinkin’ he done something wrong. But he’s alive.

His life being spared means so much that I could live on that alone for the rest of mine. 

Found a little stream where I filled my water bottle. Offering him my rag to clean his face and he starts talkin’.

I sit next to him, not too close. My body aches, ribs, gut, but not showin’ it is second nature. Rick don’t need to know anything but his boy and Michonne are unharmed. No need to have him ask about me. I offered to pay and I did, that’s all. He’s askin’ about Beth, I’m talkin’ about her, then Joe and his group. Can’t hardly meet Rick’s eyes.

When he tells me it’s not on me, I want to say he’s wrong. He repeats it though. And goes on.

“You bein’ back here, with us now – that’s everything. You’re my brother.”

His words are clear and honest and true like everything Rick says. They mean more to me than any gift, feel better than any touch. Yeah, I really could live on this and never need anything more.

We talk a little more, till the sun starts making the world a bit warmer, overlaying the chill that seeped into our bones last night.

We lean our heads back against the old, rusty car and both of us doze in the sunlight. I drift off thinking about that undefined _more_ that my body wants even though my head says it doesn’t know what on earth that could mean.

He wants to move on, get to Terminus today. Like it will put last night behind us. Make a fresh start.

I’d rather rest, just fill up on bein’ near him again, but we do like Rick says, like always.

Maybe it will be the safe place we’re lookin’ for. Maybe there I can let the hope I’m feelin’ now shore up my nerve to let him know the stuff I can’t put into words.

We walk through the woods, together again, me with Carl, him up ahead with Michonne. Part of my mind is on how the kid is managing, part on makin’ sure no walkers get close. The rest I let take Rick in.

My head is full, my heart tryin’ to squirm away. Hands all clenched on my bow to keep from reachin’ out.

While we slept, I had a dream about him. Always woke up when that kinda dream started before, like even asleep my brain couldn’t handle it. This time though, it went farther, felt so real.

I was touchin’ him. Like somehow the dream me got the nerve my real self never could. I washed the blood off his face myself, insteada just handin’ him the rag. Then I opened up his jacket and shirt and wiped his throat. His eyes drifted closed as I put my hands on him. His hard muscles felt so good, so different from the metal of my bow, the leather of my vest.

Like dreams do, things got blurry for a bit, then I could see again real clear. We were layin’ side by side, no clothes on. The dream me didn’t blush or run or try to hide my back. I felt all the confidence I’ve never had awake. His body was there for me to learn, the softness of his sides, the bony ridges of his hips, the hardness between his legs. His eyes were on me, warm and waitin’. His hands just rested on my shoulders, not pulling, not forcing. Letting me take my time, get ready, get this figured out.

And when I put my mouth on him, I _was_ ready. Like some perfect understanding had come over me, I knew what to do and how to do it to make him feel good. It was like he was doing me though, the dream me getting’ hard, bein’ loved, Rick’s mouth takin’ all the pain I’ve ever known away and giving pleasure like a blessing, more perfect than my right hand ever could, just like I always secretly hoped being loved by somebody like Rick would feel. Givin’ me life.

When I finished, I woke up. Not in his arms, but still by his side. Only a foot of space was between us. Didn’t feel like a mile anymore though.

We’re almost to Terminus. Rick’s using a good strategy, checking the fences, burying our extra weapons and supplies. His plan is to go in the back way, strong.

Maybe by tonight we’ll have a bed we can sleep in, food in our stomachs and I’ll be like myself in the dream. Not clumsy, not scared.

Ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to the Rickyl Writers Group.


End file.
